


Will Wonders Ever Cease

by sielu



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), No beta we fall like Crowley, She Loves Me (Musical) AU, and co-workers, and they were penpals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23712565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sielu/pseuds/sielu
Summary: Aziraphale Fell, a parfumarie clerk, is in love.She knows what her beloved likes, the way her beloved thinks and is absolutely sure they are perfect for each other, she hasn't just met them yet. They've been penpals, writing each others constantly, for over 8 months and tonight they will finally meet.She just hopes whoever her Dear Friend is, they have a better attitude than the parfumarie's supervisor, Miss A. J. Crowley.(She Loves Me AU. I just coulndn't not write it).
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Will Wonders Ever Cease

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea back in February after finding my "She Loves Me" playbill from 2016 and finally sat up to write it. It's not much and I changed part of the story, but I'm happy with the result, I think.
> 
> Let me know what you think about it, please.

There were terrible days. Awful, horrible days, but none of them can compare to the one Aziraphale was currently experiencing.

First. Mr. Shadwell made everybody stay overtime to clean the Parfumarie and prepare it for the Holidays season. It didn’t matter Anathema insisted Aziraphale “ _just has to leave, there is a hard to get dinner reservation at stakes and please, Mr. Shadwell, do you think Aziraphale will ever be able to get another table that such fancy establishment?”_

Then, after her friend’s constant nagging to their boss finally managed to get her free from the madness going on at the Parfumarie, she had barely walked half a block away from her working place when a fast car passing by drenched her brand new dress with dirty water and mud while speeding away trying to get God knows where. It had taken her so long to chose a simple, yet inviting dress for the evening! A dress that said “if you use the right words, I might even let you kiss me before the night is over”, not that she didn’t want to kiss her date, she’d been dreaming of it since she realized her feelings were more than friendly, but a lady couldn’t just jump in the arms of somebody, no matter how attractive she found them.

But neither having to do overtime at work nor being forced to wear her coat the whole evening compared to what happened during dinner.

Her date didn’t show up.

“Where are you, Dear Friend?” Aziraphale asked herself while she waited for longer than a person should have waited. They had decided on a fancy and romantic, yet very discreet, restaurant to meet up. Reservations were hard to get, but her date had told Aziraphale she didn’t have to worry, the owner owed was a friend and they could accommodate them and Aziraphale felt her heart soar when she read the words written on the letter she refused to part with.

You’ll see, Aziraphale didn’t know her date. 

Well, she did know them. What they liked, how they felt, what made them happy and what made them upset. What she didn’t know was their name and how they looked like. After all, their relationship started with letters and today was supposed to be the day they finally met each other.

“You’re in love with someone you don’t know? A penpal?” Anathema exclaimed when Aziraphale finally told her about the person behind the letters she loved to read as much as she could.

“I didn’t plan to do it, but I read this article on religion on a magazine I like and the author had such a way with words. It was against the church and everything it stands for and I couldn’t help it, I sent a reply to the magazine’s address and… well… we’re going on a date now.”

Aziraphale didn’t expect to get a reply from the author of the article that went against everything her family and faith taught her since she was a child, but she did. And she wrote back. Another letter came and many more after the very first one, until one day, eight months and a totally different topic on the letters later, she found herself accepting Dear friend’s proposition to meet up. 

She would wait for them with a rose and a book, that would be the way Dear Friend would recognize her.

But Dear Friend didn’t show up.

She had been waiting for over two hours when her day turned from terrible to an absolute nightmare, because someone walked over to her table and it wasn’t Dear Friend, but the most irritating person Aziraphale had ever known; her supervisor at the Parfumarie; A. J. Crowley.

“What’s an angel, such as yourself, doing all alone with a rose and a book in such romantic place, Miss Fell?” Crowley asked, not even asking Aziraphale if the seat in front of her was taken and slouching on it.

She couldn’t believe it, from all people in the world it had to be A. J. Crowley who saw her sitting by herself, probably looking as the most miserable thing. Such luck she had.

Aziraphale wanted nothing more than for Miss Crowley to leave, but a bad day will only get worse and Miss Crowley stayed. She asked question after question Aziraphale refused to answer, too tired and sad to play her game, until one of them got a reaction out of her.

“A rose, a book, an almost empty restaurant with a romantic atmosphere… Jeez, Miss Fell, were you stood up?” Crowley grinned, taking the rose from Aziraphale’s hand and playing with its petals. “And by a blind date! That would explain your props”. She smirked.

“I don’t think it’s something that should concern you, Miss Crowley” Aziraphale replied, trying as hard as she could to maintain her calm demeanor and control her intense desire to cry. “The establishment is about to close, I would recommend you to leave. After all, you weren’t invited here in the first place”.

Miss Crowley stood up, placed the rose behind Aziraphale’s ear and looked at the entryway. “You’re right”, she said, her eyes never leaving the door. “But you know what? Whoever they are, they probably don’t deserve you. Honestly, I’m sure I saw a fat, bald man looking inside from the windows before I came in. The poor fellow looked like Sandalphon on a bad day. If he was your date you should be happy he didn’t dare to come inside”.

Aziraphale smiled against her will, she didn’t expect Miss Crowley to be kind to her. She had always been the most serious and hardworking person at the Parfumarie, Shadwell’s right hand, but her inability to filter her words when something upset her made her look mean to the eyes of others. To Aziraphale’s eyes.

“See you tomorrow at work” Miss Crowley muttered. She nodded at Aziraphale and left.

The most terrible day. Even A. J. Crowley felt sorry for her.

Aziraphale looked around, waved to a waiter and paid for the tea she had early on the evening. Dear Friend wasn’t going to show up and she wasn’t going to wait any longer. After all, it was closing time.

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Shadwell. Miss Fell is feeling bad. Throwing her guts up, the poor thing. She won’t be able to make it today. Oh no, she’s not pregnant, don’t worry. Yes, I will let her know. Thank you.”

Aziraphale Zelda Fell, A. Z. Fell, Miss Fell for those she’s not friendly with, couldn’t imagine her life without Madame Tracy. Tracy was an old friend of her mother and when Aziraphale decided she wanted to live on the big city, she opened up her arms and welcomed her into her home. She was a second mother to Aziraphale and the only person who knew the extension of her feeling for Dear Friend.

“My dear girl, maybe Miss Crowley is right. Maybe it’s for the best your friend didn’t show up.” Tracy said, sitting on Aziraphale’s bed next to her and running her fingers through Aziraphale’s short, blonde hair. “Who knows, it could have been a murderer. They’re always after innocent girls like you, easy preys.”

“I’m not innocent” Aziraphale complained. “I’ve been kissed before”. She added, recalling her first, experimental kiss with a boy from her class back when she was 14 years old, not a mind blowing experience nor a bad one and that time she played truth or dare on a ladies get together a few years ago and ended up making up for several minutes with one of Anathema’s girlfriends. An older woman who shoved her tongue inside her mouth and left her breathless. (And if they met up again a few times over a couple of months without Anathema or anyone else to kiss, touch and explore each other, that was her secret to keep.) “I’m not a child”.

“You know that’s not what I mean. You can be naive when your heart is too much into it.” Tracy caressed her face lovingly, the way only she knew how to do it. “Mr. Shadwell sends his regards and well wishes. Hopes to see you tomorrow when your stomach stops upsetting you.” She kissed Aziraphale’s forehead and stood up. “Rest, my darling. The world can wait for you, if only for a day.”

“I’m not naive” She thought, getting herself comfortable under the bedsheets. “Dear Friend is not a bad person. There’s no way someone with such a way with words can be bad”. The weight of her heart and the headache gained after spending the night crying were finally getting to her, she could feel sleep winning over her. It only took a couple of seconds for Aziraphale to fall asleep.

* * *

“... honestly, you’d think someone as proper as you wouldn’t live in such a mess.”

Dear lord, a nightmare. She fell asleep and went directly into a nightmare. Great.

“Do you mind if I move all the books to the floor so I can use the chair?”

Truly a nightmare, there’s no other way she could be hearing Miss Crowley’s voice. Aziraphale would never dare to dream about her, she would find out somehow and tease her until she felt obligated to quit her job.

“Actually, do you mind if I get you a bookshelf? You’ll probably trip to your death on one of these bricks. There are too many pages in them to be just books.”

“That would be nice” Aziraphale said to the Miss Crowley in her nightmare. “A bookshelf”.

“Oh, you’re awake”

“Imm sleep” She corrected, surely Miss Crowley knew she was nothing but a figment of Aziraphale’s imagination. “You’re annoying” She added. She wasn’t brave enough to tell the real A. J. Crowley, nightmare one would have to do. “What does the J stand for anyway”

“Just a J, really”

“Jeselle”

“Not even close”

“You’re not fun. Not even scary. Nightmares are supposed to be scary” she said, hugging her pillow. 

“Great, you think you’re sleeping”.

“You’re nice, Alice Jeselle Crowley”

“I’m not nice! And that’s not even my name!”

“Jezebel”

“Please stop”

“Joaquina”

“Fine. I’m leaving.” Aziraphale heard a chair move, she didn’t remember dreaming about a chair. “See you tomorrow at work”. Miss Crowley said. Aziraphale felt something lingering over the bedsheets. It felt warm. “Get well.”

The sound of footsteps, followed by the thump of someone who had tripped and a hiss of pain waked her up from her not-really-a nightmare and Aziraphale quickly got out of bed to find Miss Crowley sitting on the floor of her bedroom, massaging her right leg.

“Oh my god, Miss Crowley!” She knelt next to her, hovering her hands over Miss Crowley’s leg, not daring to touch. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine” Miss Crowley replied, straightening up herself trying to look as dignified as possible for someone who tripped over a book. “A safety hazard, that’s what your room is, Miss Fell”.

Aziraphale pouted. She was about to defend the honor of her bedroom when she realized she was wearing nothing but her white nightgown, leaving not much of her curves to the imagination of Miss Crowley. She felt blood rushing to her face and hoped she didn’t look as embarrassed as she felt. 

Noticing how uncomfortable Aziraphale got, Miss Crowley looked the other way and allowed her the chance to get up and put on a robe before Aziraphale helped her to stand on her feet.

“What are you doing here, Miss Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, sitting on top of her bed. “Did you come to make fun of me after last night? Because, believe me, no one laughs at me more than I already do.”

Miss Crowley’s face was pointing on her direction and Aziraphale was sure she could feel her eyes staring at her behind the dark sunglasses she liked to wear at all times of the day. She felt exposed. “I’m afraid you’re wrong, I just wanted to know how you were doing. Mr. Shadwell said you were sick of your stomach, but I knew that wasn’t the real reason. I was wondering if… it doesn’t matter”.

“It does matter. It made you come here” Aziraphale said, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I just wanted to know if your date showed up, but they clearly didn’t. I mean, you didn’t go to work”.

“Oh. That’s…”

“Or maybe they did and it really was the guy who looked liked Sandalphon. No wonder you’re sick.”

“It’s not…”

“Anyway, you look fine. I should get going, Mr. Shadwell thinks I’m at the doctor and I promised to go back. Here, this is for you.” Suddenly, Aziraphale had a small bag shoved into her hands. “Anathema mentioned you liked it, thought it might cheer you up.”

The bag felt cold in her hands and inside of it Aziraphale found one of her favorite things in the world. 

“Vanilla ice cream?”

“You don’t like it?” Aziraphale stared at the ice cream carton, Miss Crowley had brought her favorite brand. “I knew Anathema was lying, that terrible girl”.

“No, no!” She rushed to deny. “I love it, thank you.”

“It’s nothing, I just thought… You had a rough day, it made you skip work and you never skip work, not even when you had that strong fever during summer. And you… I don’t know, you deserve something nice?” Miss Crowley was rambling and Aziraphale thought it was adorable. She never rambled, A. J. Crowley was direct and always knew what to say.

“Thank you, truly. I appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing. See you tomorrow, I guess.” Miss Crowley patted Aziraphale’s head awkwardly, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “And Miss Fell? What I said yesterday?”

“Yes?”

“Whoever they are, they don’t deserve you. You’re… fine.”

Aziraphale didn’t notice when Miss Crowley left the room, her attention was fixed on the cold Vanilla Ice cream carton in her hands and the warm feeling in her heart.

* * *

_Dear Friend:_

_I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way, but together, you and I will laugh at last night someday…_

  
  


Ice Cream.

Vanilla Ice Cream.

Miss Crowley said she asked Anathema about what Aziraphale liked because she wanted her to feel good after a terrible day and brought her Vanilla Ice Cream, the simplest yet more delicious ice cream flavor. She even bought her favorite brand. Aziraphale didn’t know Anathema paid enough attention to notice the brand she enjoyed the most. She couldn’t believe also her friend had willingly told Miss Crowley. She didn’t know what happened last night, she probably suspected Aziraphale wasn’t sick of her stomach or wouldn’t have mentioned ice cream on the first place, but she did and Miss Crowley went all the way to lie about going to the doctor to Mr. Shadwell and buy the ice cream for Aziraphale.

Miss Crowley lied to Mr. Shadwell, bought the ice cream and brought it to Aziraphale’s home. The Vanilla ice cream.

Dear Lord, she was supposed to be writing a letter to Dear Friend about last night. She wasn’t sure, but maybe it was nothing but a misunderstanding. Maybe Dear Friend had an accident. Maybe Dear Friend needed her right now and she was there, sitting on her own looking like a fool and thinking about dessert.

_Dear Friend:_

_I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way, but together, you and I will laugh at last night someday._ _  
__I sat there waiting at that cafè and never guessing that you were fat_

Oh no!

_… and never guessing that you were near. You were outside looking bald…_

  
  


Oh dear. Sandalphon.  
“I better start again.”

  
  


_I am so sorry about last night…_

  
  


“Am I, really?”

Last night had been a nightmare. The whole day had been terrible, there’s no denying and when Dear Friend didn’t show up, Aziraphale felt like the world was ending. For months, Dear Friend had been the only person outside of Madame Tracy and Anathema who paid her any attention, but they were a second mother and a best friend to her. The way she felt for them isn’t the same she felt for Dear Friend, but at the same time Dear Friend wasn’t physically there for here like Madame Tracy and Anathema were.

Would Dear Friend lie for her so she could stay in bed drowning in her own sorrow like Madame Tracy did? Or would Dear Friend pay attention to everything about her like Anathema did? Surely Dear Friend wouldn’t be able to tell Miss Crowley about her preferences in desserts. Aziraphale wasn’t sure they ever discussed desserts at all, all their letters were very stimulating for Aziraphale’s intellect, but they never allowed themselves to be shallow and talk about everyday things. Dear Friend wouldn’t probably take time of the day to go buy a carton of ice cream for her.

Vanilla ice cream.

Dear lord, it was delicious. And Miss Crowley had bought it just for her, because she cared about Aziraphale’s wellbeing and wanted her to be happy.

Maybe Miss Crowley wasn’t as bad she thought.

* * *

“Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Antoinette Janet Crowley, you’re an idiot.

Of course you would end up being Dear Friend’s’ supervisor.

Of course she’d be Miss Fell out of all the women in the world.

Of course she’d look ethereal, almost like an angel on her nightgown, perfectly clinging to her soft curves.

Those curves, they were so tempting. They were calling my name.

Oh fuck.

Get it together, you useless lesbian!”

* * *

“Have you thought about the possibility of Miss Crowley being Dear Friend?” Anathema asked out of the blue a week later while they were having lunch on the back of the shop.

On her first day back at work, Anathema dragged Aziraphale to her house to tell her about this man she met at the library. Newt she called him. He was sweet, calm and generous, everything she always wanted. She also wanted to talk about her date with Dear Friend and Aziraphale told her all about it, Vanilla ice cream included.

“I mean, it can’t be just a coincidence. Dear Friend didn’t show up, but Miss Crowley did? And she asked about the rose and the book? Think about it, I’ve certainly been doing a lot of thinking of my own.”

Aziraphale stared at Anathema with her mouth slightly open. The idea of Dear Friend being Miss Crowley was insane. How could someone as wonderful as the person writing letters to her, the person who probably knew her better than anyone else be the cause of her constant migraine? Miss Crowley was serious, borderline crazy when it came to work professionalism and that was what made her the perfect supervisor for Mr. Shadwell’s Parfumerie. She was the voice of reason in the middle of the chaos the Parfumerie usually was. “Shadwell’s Perfumes” was a family store and the current Mr. Shadwell was the last in his family line and he couldn’t be any less interested on the business. It was Miss Crowley who kept it going since she started working there and it was Miss Crowley who would probably end up inheriting the place, didn’t matter she wasn’t a blood heir or being part of the family. “Shadwell’s Perfumes” was Miss Crowley’s as much as it was Mr. Shadwell’s at this point.

Someone like that, someone who lived for her work, who breathed perfume, couldn’t be Dear Friend. Miss Crowley didn’t have the time.

Dear Friend was kind, lovely, incredibly smart and was often reading all of Aziraphale’s recommendations, no matter how silly they looked like. Dear Friend didn’t seem to be anything like Miss Crowley and yet… and yet it seemed to make sense. Or perhaps that was just what Aziraphale’s heart desired, emotionally compromised after being on the receiving end of what seemed to be Miss Crowley’s affection turned real by a carton of ice cream.

“That’s just silly, they can’t be the same person” She told Anathema, breaking a piece of the small chocolate bar she had with her and giving it to her friend. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know how it feels like to read a book while lying on the grass, not caring about the grass stains. She’s too proper, too put together. Dear Friend though? She’s different.” Aziraphale sighted, thinking about one of the first letters she got in which Dear Friend described the feeling of being free to finally read her brand new collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. “She’s everything I’ve always wished and never thought was real.”

“Aziraphale, is Dear Friend a woman?” Anathema asked, surprised to hear Aziraphale assigning a gender to the person she always described as _them_.

“I’m not sure? Why?”

“Because you just called them _she_ a couple of times. I think a part of you wants them to be Miss Crowley.”

“You’re just talking non-senses”

Aziraphale got up, lunch time already over and having to return to her sales, leaving Anathema alone and ignoring her _“you cannot hide your feelings from yourself!_ ” calls. And if during the rest of her shift her eyes kept on fixing on Miss Crowley it wasn’t because she was interested, but only because she was wearing a new lipstick Aziraphale just found to be a lovely shade of red.

* * *

** Twelve days to Christmas. **

The employees at “Shadwell’s Perfumes” were prepared for the first influx of Christmas customers, the type who always arrive with lots of time to do their Christmas shopping. They were preparing since December 1st and the store was well stocked, Miss Crowley made sure it was. She spent most of November checking their inventory, most of the time by herself and at least once a week with Aziraphale’s help, after Anathema offered her friend’s time and patience for the job. It was awkward at first, Aziraphale tried to start conversations with Miss Crowley, but they didn’t seem to have anything in common until during one of the sessions together Aziraphale smelled something different in the air; it was Shadwell’s new apple scented perfume. She complimented Miss Crowley on it and suddenly they were talking about apples. Two hours laters she knew something new about her supervisor; Miss Crowley had an apple tree on her backyard and was very proud of it.

“Miss Fell, do you have a second?” Miss Crowley asked after that very first day of Christmas sales. Aziraphale was tying a white scarf around her neck and nodded at her. “I wanted to thank you for all your help with the inventory. WIthout you, we wouldn’t have been ready for today.”

“It was Anathema’s idea, she told Mr. Shadwell.”

“Same thing. You could have said no, but you didn’t, so I was wondering, only if you’re not busy of course… would you like to have some tea at the café around the corner? You can always say no.”

There was something on Miss Crowley’s voice, on the way it sounded quite shaken and unsure that warmed Aziraphale’s chest. She didn’t need to think twice about it.

“I would love to.”

* * *

**Nine days to Christmas.**

“Miss Fell, there’s a movie playing I think you would really enjoy and have two tickets for it. Would you like to go with me after work?”

It was a very cold December morning, a Friday, and Aziraphale was getting ready on the backroom to help shoppers choose the perfect presents for their loved ones. She wasn’t expecting an invitation from her. They had tea and a cake a few days earlier, but it was nothing more than a way for Miss Crowley to show her gratitude towards Aziraphale and the help she provided. Nothing but an obligation of sorts.

A movie was something different. Going to the movies together implied Miss Crowley wanted to spend more time with Aziraphale on a dark room where no one would know if they were actually paying attention to what was happening on the screen or to each other.

A movie meant Miss Crowley was, at least, trying to befriend her.

And who was Aziraphale to say no to a possible new friend?

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

* * *

**Four days to Christmas.**

Ironically, working on a Parfumerie helping others get the perfect presents for their loved ones during most of the day meant Aziraphale didn’t have the time to get her own presents for the own loved ones. She had asked Mr. Shadwell if she could finish her shift earlier, just one hour was enough as she already knew what she needed to get, but with Christmas right around the corner he couldn’t just allow one of his best clerks to miss even an hour, what would happen to those unattended customers? Maybe they would get bored of waiting, leave the store and go buy their presents somewhere else. Aziraphale understood, of course, but it didn’t stop her from thinking how unfair it was. 

Then Miss Crowley appeared.

As she shopped for Madame Tracy’s and Anathema’s presents, Aziraphale thought about Miss Crowley offering to work extra hours to cover for Aziraphale. She managed to convince Mr. Shadwell after a long, mostly one-sided, conversation filled with nothing but praise for Aziraphale and a very precise retelling of all the times it was Miss Fell who managed to make the biggest sells, using her angelic charm even on the most difficult customers.

Aziraphale was impressed by the way Miss Crowley talked about her and when her eyes landed on a fancy black lace handkerchief her cheeks went pink and she wondered if Miss Crowley would like it as a present. It wasn’t much, but it was the thought what mattered or so she heard.

* * *

  
  


“How’s Dear Friend doing?”

“What did you say, dear?” Aziraphale asked Anathema on the other side of the phone line. She was holding the speaker between her shoulder and face as she wrapped Miss Crowley’s present.

“Nevermind. Oh! I just found the perfect present for Newt, by the way!”

* * *

**One day to Christmas/Christmas Eve.**

Anathema told her Christmas Eve at “Shadwell’s Perfumes” were crazy, but she didn’t explain how crazy they could be.

She knew it was an exaggeration, but it felt almost as if a million customers went through the Parfumerie’s door per second, every single one of them urging the clerks to be quick as they still had to get presents for other members of their families and friends, asking for last minute discounts and requesting the most complicated bows for all their packages. At some point there were so much people inside even Mr. Shadwell left his office to help run the register , and put his limited customer service ability to use. Luckily, Christmas Eve also happened to be the one day of the Holiday Season they closed earlier, waving goodbye to their last customer (a stressed father who was asked by his wife to buy their teenage daughter her first elegant perfume) at 16 hours o’clock, allowing all clerks to prepare themselves for the festivities.

Every year, Aziraphale had Christmas Eve dinner with Madame Tracy and Anathema, but this year Anathema was invited by Newt’s mother to dine with them as their first official outing as a couple and Madame Tracy had a secret date with an “old flame” she didn’t want Aziraphale to know about until she was sure they were serious and not just him having fun. She made sure to tell Aziraphale she wasn’t as young as she used to be and didn’t want to spend the rest of her years by herself.

_(“But you will always have me” Aziraphale protested._

_“The cards say something different, my child” Madame Tracy explained, softly looking to the woman she thought of as a daughter. “Your future is not tied up to this old lady”)._

Madame Tracy told her about her date before she left for work that morning and Aziraphale spent most of the day, when she wasn’t busy with customers, thinking about how lonely it would be to dine by herself with only a cup of wine as her only company. They would lunch together on Christmas Day, but that was still a day away.

“Miss Fell”, she heard a familiar and very welcome voice call out. “Why are you still here? The shop is closed, go have dinner with your family.” Miss Crowley was grabbing her bag on the backroom, getting ready to leave too. She probably was going to have dinner with someone who was special for her, Aziraphale thought and it wasn’t hard for her to imagine Antoinette Crowley having a sophisticated meal on a fancy place, sitting across an elegantly dressed table to a lovely young lady, who would smile at her and say _“my darling Antoinette, you are the only present I need this Christmas”_ as Miss Crowley presented her with a perfectly wrapped present.

Oh, how Aziraphale wished it was a lady.

How she wished it was her.

“Miss Fell? Do you need a ride home? It’s getting late.”

Aziraphale lifted her eyes to Miss Crowley and a bravery she had never felt before overcame her when she smiled at her. She crossed the room and stepped in front of her supervisor, it simply wouldn’t hurt to try. “Miss Crowley, would you like to have Christmas Eve dinner with mer?”

A few seconds and million heartbeats passed and Miss Crowley didn’t reply, but Aziraphale didn’t dare to stop looking at her. If she was going to be rejected she wanted to face it like the strong woman she had always tried to be, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt. When the silence started to become unbearable, Aziraphale realized something; she had just assumed Miss Crowley liked women. She wanted so hard to be the object of her affections and hadn’t stop to think for a moment she might not be what Miss Crowley wanted. God, Aziraphale didn’t even think about women in that way before Miss Crowley came to her with vanilla ice cream weeks ago.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry” She whispered, backing up and giving Miss Crowley space. “You probably have a date already. I shouldn’t just… I mean… He’s a lucky guy.”

Embarrassed, Aziraphale grabbed her back and coat and ran from the back room into the cold street. If she walked fast she could get away from the Parfumerie and make it home before dinnertime. She wasn’t even hungry, if she was going to be honest with herself. The incident with Miss Crowley had killed her appetite and awoken nothing but a feeling of regret that started in the middle of her chest and expanded through her body. She couldn’t see her again, it would hurt. Maybe if she asked Madame Tracy to bring Mr. Shadwell her resignation letter she could avoid even a glance. Yes, she wasn’t coming back, didn’t matter she liked her job, she simply couldn’t face Miss Crowley.

“Miss Fell!!” She heard name being called and Aziraphale recognized the voice, but she couldn’t stop walking. She simply couldn’t.

“Miss Fell, please!” The voice called again and Aziraphale walked faster. “Dear Friend” she heard and body finally came to a stop.

“What did you call me?” She asked, turning around and trying very hard not to cry. Miss Crowley stopped in front of her and grabbed her hands, her own feeling cold and soft.

“Aziraphale… _I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way, but together, you and I will laugh at last night someday_.” Miss Crowley recited, her breathe coming hard and her voice trembling.

“Dear friend?” Miss Crowley nodded, nervously smiling at her. “It’s really you then? You always knew?”

“Dear Friend, I couldn’t wait until you knew.” The hands on Aziraphale’s linked their fingers together. “I knew since what was supposed to be our dinner. I was embarrassed when I saw you there, I knew I wasn’t kind to you, but I loved the you I knew from the letters. I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I pretended I just happened to be there and decided to gain your affection as me. Just me.”

Aziraphale stopped hearing when Miss Crowley confessed to love her from her letters, all the blood in her body pumping faster and faster. If it wasn’t for the hands linked with hers she would have fallen to the ground.

“I wanted it to be you.” She confessed, her heart threatening to escape from her chest. “There’s no one else I wanted Dear Friend to be.” The feeling of bravery came back stronger than before and Aziraphale found herself drawing Miss Crowley’s body closer to hers, enveloping her on a warm embrace she never knew she needed until Miss Crowley’s arms were around her too, tight around her lower back. She allowed herself to rest her cheek against Miss Crowley’s shoulder and breathe her scent, a mix of all the products on “Shadwell’s Perfumes” and vanilla. She laughed at the memory of what should have been her first sign.

“So, about that dinner invitation?” Miss Crowley asked, a tinge of nervousness on the inflection of her voice. Aziraphale was thrilled. She smiled, kissed Miss Crowley’s right cheek and held her hand, leading the way to her house to spend what was definitely going to be the a Christmas Eve to remember.

And if the next day she showed up with Toni to Christmas lunch with Madame Tracy and both were still wearing yesterday’s clothes, well, that’s another story to tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Stream "She Loves Me", it's on BroadwayHD.
> 
> (btw, will I ever stop turning my ships into wlw couples? Probably not)


End file.
